


Afterglow

by SilverBird13



Category: Les Misérables (Movie 1978), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, Possibly the fluffiest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:06:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3932716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverBird13/pseuds/SilverBird13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was a strange beauty to Valjean; strange in that it was hidden, peeking out from the curve of his cheek or the clean whiteness of his hair instead of being flaunted as that of others was wont to do."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterglow

It is late, perhaps an hour after he and Valjean had finished their lovemaking, and yet Javert wakes of his own accord. Valjean is curled into his side, his breathing even, and Javert allows himself the lazy pleasure of observing the man.

There was a strange beauty to Valjean; strange in that it was hidden, peeking out from the curve of his cheek or the clean whiteness of his hair instead of being flaunted as that of others was wont to do. No, Valjean’s beauty was secretive, revealed only to the most trained eye or to the one fortunate enough to be welcomed into his bed. As I am, Javert thought with a proud and satisfied swell of his chest.

He ghosts a touch over Valjean’s cheek where it nearly glows in the moonlight. It is fitting, Javert thinks, that such a man’s face should shine as if the light from his soul were reflecting outwards. How had he never see it? Perhaps he had once, in M-sur-M, but it had been fleeting, ignored for the easier satisfaction studying the man’s backside and shoulders could bring him later that night. 

Javert’s gaze drifts downwards to Valjean’s slightly parted lips. They are nothing like Javert’s lips, thin and cracked and contorted when he fixes them into a smile. Valjean’s, despite age and struggle, remain plush and as innocently pink as his daughter’s. Unable to stop himself, Javert strokes Valjean’s lower lip with the pad of his thumb, affection warming his breast as Valjean sleeps on. Testing his luck, Javert moves to touch Valjean’s cheek once more, studying the hairs of his neatly-trimmed beard as they are illuminated by the open window. They are thin, the wisps curling delicately against his skin in a softer mimicry of the hair on Valjean’s head. He’s woken Valjean before by running a hand though that hair, and so he instead studies Valjean’s eyelashes, which remain dark despite the color of his eyebrows above. He’s kissed them before, the night after Cosette’s wedding, when nothing else could soothe Valjean save for kisses Javert felt entirely unworthy and unskilled to give. 

Valjean shifts away from Javert in his sleep, and Javert freezes, more concerned that Valjean’s sleep should be interrupted than that he should look like a mooning schoolboy. The new position allows him to see the length of Valjean’s torso, where the unsettling angles of months past have been smoothed out, and Javert is satisfied by the way Valjean’s belly rests lightly atop his hipbones, relaxed and tender.

Should Valjean wake, he thinks, he will pull the man close once again and pet his hair so that he may be soothed back to sleep while he is still languid and hazy. Then Javert will study the fragile shell of Valjean’s ear and wait until morning, when he may have the pleasure of Valjean’s smile.


End file.
